Painting Flowers // Ashton Irwin [au]

Thirty

Ashton's POV

Back when I used to help Mum take care of my siblings, she would tell me that taking care of children who aren't your own is much easier than if they belong to you.

She was right.

I've never heard Reina cry before, and when the tears and loud wails begin reverberating around the room, I stand static for a moment. I have more than enough experience consoling children, especially when Harry was a toddler (he cried non-stop). But with Reina...it's a completely different experience, because it's not obligation that sends the signal to my feet to walk towards Reina; it's natural parental instinct. And I think that's what scared me for a second because it's too natural.

I peel Reina's hands away from the doorknob as she desperately tries to open it to follow after her mother. She flails her arms and jerks away from me before dropping to the floor, her cries growing in volume as she cries for "Mama." She sits there so defeated. Her cheeks are wet and small ringlets are stuck to her face.

I've always heard how it hurts parents when they have to hear their child scream or cry. Whoever came up with that is also right, because my heart feels just as heavy as it does when I see Emmie cry.

I kneel down to Reina. "Mama will be back," I say, but her cries drown me out. It feels so odd having to refer to Natalie as "Mama." It doesn't fall off the tongue right, and it definitely isn't helping Reina calm down. She tries to push me away at first when I pick her up and stable her on my hip. "It's okay," I assure her, wiping the wetness from her chubby cheeks with my thumb.

"Why don't we go play with your new toys in the living room? Emmie might steal your elephant if we don't," I joke, winking at Emmie.

"Nooooo," Reina whines, and I panic for a second, thinking that I just made it worse, but her loud cries soften to whimpers as I carry her back into the living room.

Emmie picks up the stuffed elephant from the floor and hands it to Reina, who hugs it close to her chest. "It's mine," she says.

Emmie chuckles. "Yup, it's all yours."

I almost don't want to put Reina down. This is my first time holding her and I want to soak up every precious second of it because it could be my last, but Reina squirms in my arms and I reluctantly place her back on the floor.

"What do you want to play with?" I ask her.

"Uhm..." Reina doesn't finish her answer. Instead, she runs out of the living room and down a hallway on the opposite side of the house.

Emmie and I follow behind her, venturing into parts of the house that could lead to Narnia for all we know. Natalie should have given us a tour of the house. Then again, I think we were all a bit too distracted with Reina, so we didn't have time.

Down the hallway, Reina pushes open a door that was left slightly ajar and walks inside the room. We follow after her and while Emmie steps further into the room, I stay in the doorway and examine what appears to be Reina's bedroom.

The walls are painted a pastel blue, and a white tree silhouette wall decal peeks out from behind the white toddler bed pressed flush against the side of the wall. It's cute, but I could probably paint a better one for her. One that's not manufactured. One that's unique for her. But I don't dwell on it. I'm happy to see that there's not an over-display of pink everywhere. The only sources of the color are from curtains covering the window and the pillows on Reina's bed. I'm not sure if Reina had a say in how her room should be decorated, but I will give props to Natalie because this is something I can imagine us designing for our daughter.